


Vibrations

by wellperhaps



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Background Relationships, Gen, Neurodiversity, what even is the fade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 07:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14256300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellperhaps/pseuds/wellperhaps
Summary: “Yeah, you lost me at the counting with colors bit,” Bull said.Inspired by this party banter:Cole: You like to dance, but can't. You hate to sing, but can. You should not paint. It would be very bad if you did.Sera: Shut it up!A small companion toThree months at the Gravel Pit. I wanted to spend more time with Sera.





	Vibrations

The air in the garage was beginning to get hot. The early autumn heat was finally getting through the thick brick walls. Bull didn’t mind. He nursed his glass of water, pleasantly cooled by the chunks of ice floating around in it. The perks of dating a mage. Bull thought about the first time he’d seen Dorian use his magic casually like that. He shook his head at the memory, at his own discomfort. It had only been a year. 

Dorian was sitting opposite him, drawing shapes onto the moist surface of his own glass. Sera was nudging Dorian with her elbow. “So it’s like when I can count with colors?” 

“Excuse me?”

“Your magic crap. Like when you count in your head, you only have the numbers, yeah? I have the numbers, only they’re colors, so I can see what colors they make together. You can hear the Fade. But it’s not really hearing, like, it’s just waves. And you can make it do stuff. I can’t make numbers do stuff. Well I can but not like that. I’m not a bloody astro-physifist.”

“Yeah, you lost me at the counting with colors bit,” Bull said.

Dorian was looking at Sera with sudden intensity. “Sera. What’s forty-six times seventy-two?”

“Three thousand and three hundred bloody twelve. But that’s butt ugly like yellow and baby shit.”

“So not unlike your trousers.” Dorian said, delighted. 

Bull typed the numbers into the calculator on his phone. “Shit. Sera’s right.” 

“Hmm. Sera, may I trouble you for another one?” 

Bull had no idea what was going on. Dorian asking nicely was the most baffling part. 

“Four-hundred and thirty-three times nine-hundred and four.”

Sera huffed a laugh, followed by an exasperated noise. “No, fancy-arse, that’s just spots and mess. Like marbles rolling down a hill. You don’t need that many for nothing.” 

“Fascinating. And you said: ‘it’s just waves’.”

“No, you said it’s just waves. When Bull asked you about the ice.”

Bull frowned.

“I asked him does the ice come from the Fade. He said: ‘it’s not like that, the Fade just helps me change the temperature.’ Good thing too, I don’t want to drink any weird Fade ice. Dorian didn’t say anything about waves.”

“Weird Fade ice,” repeated Dorian, slowly. 

Lavellan stirred on the sofa and lifted their head from the crook of their arm. They had been pretending to be asleep to avoid social interaction for some twenty minutes now.

“Didn’t you know that? Sera’s fucking excellent at math. It’s why she’s so good with the bow.”

“No it’s bloody well not! I’m good with the bow because I’m good with the bow, you tit.”

“I see,” said Dorian. Maybe he even did. Dorian was very smart. He kept reminding everyone.

“Sera can also hold a tune like you wouldn’t believe.” Lavellan offered, and got their hair pulled on by Sera.

“I’m not bloody well singing for you shits!”

“Thank the Maker for that. Sera’s right, however. Accessing the Fade requires that the person can perceive the vibrations of the Veil. In order to cast spells, they must also be able to manipulate those waves to their will. Non-mages can neither perceive nor alter the vibrations.”

“Our keeper said it’s like playing the theremin.” Lavellan said and wiggled their fingers in the air. 

Bull didn’t know what that was, and neither did Dorian. So Lavellan had to show them a YouTube video on their phone. It was a grainy black-and-white recording of a dude vibrating his hands over some odd machine, generating a wailing sound.

“That sounds like old horror movie music,” Bull said.

“It’s not a very good analogy,” said Dorian, “but it is one of the better ones I’ve heard. Explaining the Veil in layman’s terms is notoriously difficult. Even calling it the Veil is very misleading. Do non-mages in Ferelden not get any education on magical theory?”

“I’m from Par Vollen. You might’ve noticed the horns.”

“Pfffft school.”

Dorian sighed. 

“At least the Dalish are civilized.”

Lavellan laughed at him.

*

Sera and Lavellan were shooting arrows at targets in rapid succession. Each arrow found its mark with staggering precision.  
Bull was sitting on the ground, leaning against a boulder. Dorian was sitting between his legs. The gravel pit was warm and quiet. Even Dorian was silent. He was watching the elves, deep in contemplation. Bull resisted the urge to play with Dorian’s hair. That would only get him glared at.

“I think Lavellan was right.” Dorian said, breaking the silence.

“Hmm?”

“Sera’s archery. It’s fundamentally different from the way Lavellan does it. Look.”

Bull looked. Lavellan took an arrow from their quiver, nocked it, drew, aimed and released. The steps blended into each other, but Bull was good at observing people. He knew enough about how bodies worked so he could make sense of the technique Lavellan had. Lavellan would only look away from their target after the arrow had met it with a thud. Discipline. Bull had respect for that.

Then Bull turned his attention to Sera. Sera wasn’t any faster than Lavellan, but after watching her for a moment Bull knew that Dorian was right.

“She doesn’t aim. She doesn’t even look at the target when she shoots. What the fuck.”

“Indeed. There’s also no follow through. Lavellan waits for the arrow to connect before they draw again. Sera just fucks about. She could be faster if she wanted to.” Dorian sounded dismayed, not about whatever weird thing Sera had going on, but about her not applying herself properly.

Bull felt a sudden surge of affection and wrapped his arm around Dorian’s waist. 

“Sera!” Dorian called out. “If I were cursed with the ability to see the world through your eyes, would I see lines of color connecting your arrows to the targets?” 

“Shit no! Who cares about the arrows? It’s about the wind and the time. It gets more red or more blue, if it’s short or not. Time, like. Colder, hotter, yeah? Now it’s alright, but if the wind’s more yellow it gets fucky.”

Dorian nodded like this made perfect sense to him. Lavellan beamed at Dorian.

“Thank you, Sera.” 

And there was the weird politeness again. Bull didn’t understand any of it, but he would figure it out. In the meantime, Dorian was warm in his arms. He smelled nice, exciting and familiar at the same time. There were still some days left to their summer vacation. Bull was content.

“Hey Dorian? Say ‘fuck about’ again.”


End file.
